Disclaimer: Labyrinth and all characters from said film belong to Jim Henson and George Lucas, those geniuses. I own nothing (nothing, nothing, tra la la) but Ilie, Lynaidia, Mallaidh, some random servants, and the plot.
A/N: Tada! All 7 chapters have been revamped, and chapter 8 will most likely be up soon. Although, given my track record, I wouldn't hold your breath.
Wishes In The Night
By: Moonlit Seductress
Chapter 7
Sarah arched her sore back, trying desperately to keep her balance as she popped her spine. Concentrating on not falling out of the deathtrap also known as a sidesaddle, she gripped the back of the saddle and the reins on either side of her body, and leaned back as far as she could. Unfortunately, the movement caused her hands to tug the reins. Her horse stopped abruptly, and she tumbled off its back.
She would have landed on the hard ground if Jareth hadn't disappeared from his own horse and reappeared in time to catch her. She fell into strong, velvet clad arms, and met stony eyes that lacked any amusement.
"Sarah," Jareth said quietly, his voice harsh. "Is it too much to ask that you stay in your seat?"
Sarah flushed - not with embarrassment, but anger. True, she had fallen three times already, but it was hardly her fault - she had barely ever ridden a horse in her own world, and that had been with a regular saddle. She struggled in Jareth's iron grip. "Let go," she snapped. "I'm sorry if I keep falling, but I'm not used to riding like this."
"That much is plainly obvious," Jareth returned, not easing his grasp on her body. "Lynaidia, if you will," he intoned, inclining his head towards Sarah's horse. The young girl moved forward to catch the abandoned reins.
Sarah suddenly found herself sitting astride, her arms wrapped around a slim waist and her cheek pressed against warm black velvet. She jerked away as if Jareth's form burned, scooting as far back on the black horse's bare back as possible.
"Please do not embarrass me any further by falling off again," Jareth stated briskly. Sarah stiffened, fighting the urge to shove him off the horse. "Look, don't take it out on me just because you're nervous about seeing your mother," she said acidly, glaring daggers at his back.
To her surprise, his shoulders slumped, and his entire being radiated defeat. "I am sorry," he said, so quietly that she would have missed the words if she hadn't been concentrating so hard on him. " You are right, I should not release my frustrations on you. This is not your doing."
"Damn right it's not," she replied, her tone warmer, despite the harsh words. He turned to bestow her with a slight smile.
They rode in silence for a while, before Sarah spoke. "Hey, why are we riding to the Seelie Court anyways?" she asked. "Why didn't you just poof us there?"
He said nothing at first, but she could feel his eyebrows arch. "Poof?" he remarked.
Sarah giggled at the affronted tone in his voice. "Well, I don't know what to call it."
"Anything but poof," he replied, a mixture of disgust and amusement evident in his voice."Disappear, transport, apparate - anything but poof. And to answer your question - have you noticed the size of this procession? I could take us all there, but it would require three or four days of recovery on my part. I'd rather take that three or four days and ride instead."
Sarah laughed outright, and he twisted to see her face. "Seems like someone isn't quite as powerful as he likes us to think," she teased.
"On the contrary, only someone with my level of power would be able to move such a crowd in the first place. Someone weaker would not be able to transport us three inches, never mind the entire journey to the Court."
"Excuses, excuses," Sarah grinned. "Hey, it's not really going to take days, is it?"
"No," Jareth replied. "We're nearly there."
"Already?"
The Goblin King shot her a strange look. "We have been riding for nearly five hours, you know."
Sarah gaped. "Really? It doesn't seem so long."
Jareth shrugged. "Time flows differently in the Underground. And I suppose you had your mind on other things, like tumbling out of your saddle every hour."
She gasped in anger, until she caught sight of his grinning face. "You are a scuzzball," she said, her smile matching his.
"We are here," Jareth announced.
"Yeah, I noticed," was the breathless reply. Sarah stared at the castle that loomed above her.She realized she was no longer on Jareth's horse, but rather in front of the smooth stone steps that lead up to the huge doors. Suddenly, she found herself gaping at the entourage as it blossomed with colour. The somber, dark coloured riding clothes everyone had worn had disappeared, replaced with brighter outfits. Lynaidia dismounted smoothly, handing her reins to a waiting groom, and smoothing the folds of her simple yet pretty gown of jade green silk. She hurried towards Sarah, who was staring down at her own clothing. Gone was her dark green riding ensemble. A white gown that reminded her forcibly of a wedding dress was draped in delicate folds over her body. The dress was far more elgant than anything else she had yet worn, and she couldn't remember seeing it in the mass of fabrics that Ilie and Lynaidia had packed in her trunks. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the gown was trimmed with silver thread, and there was a light weight on her head. She removed the fine silver circlet, holding it in her hands.
"Where did this come from?" she asked her lady-in-waiting. "It wasn't in with the other jewellery, and this dress wasn't with the others either."
"Are they not to your liking, Sarah?" Once more, Jareth had materialised behind her. He, too, was wearing different clothing - the only difference being that he was still cloaked all in black. We wore black boots, made of shiny leather, that rose higher that his usual calf length ones, stretching up to his knees. His breeches had been replaced by a pair of black hose, even tighter than the breeches, and it made Sarah's heart beat faster to see his muscled thighs set off to such advantage. Over the hose he wore a short tunic of black velvet, trimmed with the same silver that decorated her dress. On his fair head was a large silver crown, far more elaborate than the one that graced Sarah's dark hair. The sheer size of it should have made it ostentatious and flashy, but as usual, he made it look perfect. The outfit was completed with the black leather gloves that clung to his hands like a second skin.
With a jolt, Sarah realized that he had asked her a question. "No, they're beautiful," she hastened to answer. "But with me all in white and you in black, we look like we're getting married."
His eyes flashed at her and she wished she hadn't opened her mouth. "The Sidhe wedding colours are not white and black, but rather red and black. However, I am pleased to see you interested in the idea of marriage." "He did not smile - it was more of a grimace. "No, I merely dressed us in the manner that will most annoy my lady mother."
Sarah stared at him. "Why?"
"Why annoy my mother? Because I find it to be rather theraputic and endlessly amusing. She'll hate that we're matching."
"That's whyit willannoy her?" she asked.
He nodded. "Not the only reason, but it will help." He scowled up at the spires of the castle, twisting into the sky. "My mother has long waited for me to find a wife, but she has been hoping that I will choose to marry a Fae woman. She will be horrified to discover that I am vying for the heart of a mortal. Her position will be significantly endangered."
She blinked in confusion. "I don't understand. How would my being mortal affect your mother?" Jareth smirked. "Fae woman are nearly infertile - they have great difficulty conceiving and carrying a child to term. Mortal women, on the other hand, seem to have no difficulties with breeding. My mother was counting on the infertility of my Fae wife to secure her position on the High Throne for many years yet."
"But if Fae women aren't able to have children, how do the Sidhe continue to exist? How could your mother have had you?"
Jareth shook his blonde head. "I said difficult, not impossible. Most Fae women have only one child, and very often the father is not the male that the woman is married to. The vast majority of the nobility have heirs that are not of their seed."
Sarah opened her mouth to speak, but Jareth silenced her with a wave of his hand. "We have waited out here for too long, and my mother is not a patient woman. I will answer any more questions at a later time." He led the way up the stone steps to the huge double doors and they swung open.
Sarah was acutely aware that she had done nothing but stare like an empty minded fool ever since she had followed Jareth over the threshhold of the great doors, but she could not help herself. The splendor of her surroundings had her speechless with awe. Great silken tapestries hung on the walls, which seemed to be sheathed in gold. Countless pictures hung in gilt frames - paintings of Fae royalty, both male and female heartstoppingly beautiful. White candles in gold brackets lit the walls with light that looked almost heavenly. The whole thing looked much like Sarah's childhood dreams, only richer still. The idea of such extravagance was overwhemling.
The procession stopped in front of another set of double doors, sheathed in gold to match the walls. A pair of Fae guards, dressed in white and gold livery, stood on either side. They bowed deeply as Jareth approached, just behind the herald that had appeared quite out of no where. He stepped through the doors as they swung open. He rapped the butt of his long, gilded horn on the floor three times and spoke in a ringing voice.
"Your Majesty, may I present His Royal Highness, Jareth, High Prince of the Sidhe, King of the Goblins, and Grand Knight of the Seelie Court." He had barely finished his sentence before Jareth had stalked into the huge room, moving with that smooth, predatory stride that Sarah recalled from her journey through the Labyrinth. He moved directly in front of the woman who sat regally in the large, raised throne and knelt. The idea of Jareth kneeling before anyone amused Sarah, and although she could not see his face, she could imagine his expression.
As his court knelt behind him, Jareth's steely voice echoed in the newly fallen silence.
"Hello, Mother."
Mallaidh, High Queen of the Sidhe and ruler over all the Underground, rose to her feet, and Sarah blinked, surprised. She was small - shorter than Sarah herself, who considered her 5'5" frame to be on the tall side - but the presence she exuded and the grace with which she moved gave her the image of towering height. She was as breathtakingly lovely as the many portraits in the halls, and Sarah was reminded of her initial thoughts upon first seeing Jareth.
She was dressed in an airy gown of lavendar silk that flowed around her slender frame with the appearance of water. A gold crown, slightly larger than her son's, and flashing with precious stones, was nestled in the equally golden locks that were piled elegantly on her head. Her skin was pale, her eyes large and startlingly blue, and her features dainty. A number of gold rings graced her long, slim fingers, and a spectacular gold and amythest necklace, which Sarah was quite sure was worth more than her apartment and car combined, encircled her milky white neck. Her presence was rather overwhelming, and Sarah was certain that if she was dressed in a T shirt and jeans, she would still look every inch the queen she was.
"Jareth," she replied.
Sarah started. Her voice was icy cold, in sharp contrast to her mild expression, and Sarah noticed that her blue eyes were steely and frigid. Clearly this was a woman not to be trifled with. "I trust you have been well?" she continued.
Jareth inclined his head mockingly. "Quite," he answered, his voice matching that of his mother.
A slight smirk tilting ruby red lips, Mallaidh turned to Sarah. As those arctic eyes fell on her, Sarah was surprised that she hadn't frozen to the spot. "And who is this vision of loveliness, my son?"
The words were warm, but the tone of voice that accompanied them were anything but, and Sarah had a sudden desire to be many, many miles away. She felt Jareth at her elbow, but dared not take her eyes off the woman who stared at her so penetratingly.
"This is Sarah, my honoured guest," Jareth said coolly. "Curtsy," he hissed, out of the corner of his mouth, and Sarah stumbled slightly, catching herself and sweeping a low cursty. She remained still in the gesture, hearing the click of heels approaching her. "Rise, Lady Sarah." The cold voice was directly in front of her, and Sarah slowly straightened, looking up into the icy blue eyes. The queen had remained a few steps above Sarah, staring down at her coolly, and her meaning could not have been clearer.
"You are inferior. Dare to cross me, and you will wish you had never been born."
"It is quite an honour to meet the woman who has captured my son's heart so firmly," Mallaidh commented. She leaned closer to Sarah, who resisted the very strong urge to run far away. "One must wonder how you have managed it."
Sarah had never been happier to feel Jareth's gloved hand on her arm. "My apologies, Mother, but we are all rather fatigued from the journey."
"Of course," Mallaidh declared, in a louder voice. She clapped her hands, and a servant immediately moved forward, bowing low.
"Show the High Prince and Lady Sarah to their rooms," she ordered, placing emphasis on the plural. "The rest will be placed in the lower guest rooms."
Jareth bowed to his mother, and Sarah managed another curtsy. The woman nodded, before turning her back on them in a clear dismissal. Silently, Sarah followed Jareth from the room, head bowed.
The servant bowed to Sarah, ushering her into a room next to Jareth's, much like their arrangement at his own castle. Shaking, Sarah walked slowly towards the bed. A door across the room opened sharply, and Jareth stalked in like he owned the place. Taking one look at her pale face, trembling hands and glassy eyes, he crossed the carpet in three quick strides, catching her hands and leading her to the bed. She sank onto the plush mattress, trying desperately to regain control.
"I am sorry, I should have warned you," Jareth apologized, dragging a chair to sit opposite her, his expression concerned. "Yeah, that would have been nice," Sarah gasped, covering her face with her hands and breathing deeply. "This is so stupid," she said faintly from behind her hands. "Why am I..." she trailed off.
"Do not despair," Jareth said softly. "I have seen Fae far braver than you reduced to quivering masses of fear before my mother. She has an...overpowering personality."
Sarah laughed weakly. "That's a bit of an understatement," she replied, emerging from her hands. She was still pale and trembling, but her eyes were brighter and the stricken look that had taken over her features when Mallaidh had first spoken to her was gone.
"You should rest," Jareth suggested. "Believe me, dinner will be a far less pleasant affair, and you will need your wits about you."
"Great," Sarah muttered. She shifted on the bed, curling her legs underneath her. As Jareth began to rise, she reached out, snagging his hand. He looked back, confused.
"Will you stay with me - just 'til I fall asleep?" she asked quietly, not meeting his eyes. A smile replacing his confusion, Jareth moved onto the bed. Sarah drew back, eyes wide, but he tugged her close, wrapping his arms around her. "Trust me," he soothed.
Smiling at him, Sarah let her head rest on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
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